


Lemonade

by Pisces314



Series: JayTim Week-Summer [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Civilian Jason, Don't ask me why Tim still goes by Red Rob I don't have an answer for that, Fluff, Humor, Jason thinks Tim is hot in baggy clothes, Light Angst, M/M, Poor Jay doesn't know wtf is going on half the time, They both have terrible taste, Tim doesn't know how to ask someone out, Tim thinks Jason is hot in greasy overalls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 17:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11604966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pisces314/pseuds/Pisces314
Summary: They land with Jason on his back on top of the intruder, which seems to be exactly what the psycho wanted, because he just throws both legs over Jason’s, effectively immobilizing him. Upon realizing that he can’t move his limbs, Jason is forced to consider moves that he will be ashamed of later. He bites down hard on the gloved hand over his mouth and gets a pained squeak as a reward. But it doesn’t cause the stranger to let go, instead they only grip Jason tighter.“I know this is kind of a shitty way to ask for a favor,” A male voice pants in his ear. “But I just really need you to be quiet for like two minutes.” Jason rolls his eyes and continues squirming around. He thinks maybe if he can get his arm moved down slightly, he might be able to hit the guy right where it hurts.





	Lemonade

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt fill for JayTim Week Day Two: Summer Job and another AU for you guys! This time featuring a capeless Jason and a chance meeting with Red Robin. This was actually an incredibly fun dynamic to write and I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Jason is a pretty laid back go with the flow type of person. He had learned from a young age, after the city sent in a social worker to take him away from his mom, that life liked blow everything you ever knew up right in your face, probably just to see how much you could take before you broke. 

The saying about life giving you lemons and you making lemonade out of them was bullshit. No, life liked to throw gravel at you. Each rock that hit you leaving a bruise that stayed there forever, a sore that would flare up again when rubbed the wrong way.

He was told that his mother had died of a drug overdose and was taken to live with a group of strangers within the same hour. After that, there was really much else that could phase him.

He stayed in the system for a month. No one really wanted a mouthy ten year old who always smelled like smoke. But then one day, the officer who had been to one to break the news of his mother’s death to him, took him home. The Gordon’s were an odd family, but Jason couldn’t help but love them after only a few months of living with them.

Even with the easy attachment he gained with Jim and his daughter Barbara, Jason still had trouble feeling like he was at home with them. Throughout the years he never lost that awkward feeling that he was in a stranger’s home, despite how hard they tried to make him feel comfortable.  

So, when the owner of the garage he had been working for wanted to retire, Jason bought his shop using nearly every penny he saved up during his teen years as a down payment and moved into the little studio apartment above it.

The shop was in one of the rougher parts of Gotham, which worried his family to no end, but Jason liked it. He felt like he really got a sense of the true heart of Gotham. He had even grown to love the smell of grease and metal that constantly surrounded him. And the easy access to new parts for his bike was an added bonus.

Jason had jumped right into adulthood and settled into a nice routine that would probably be without much variety for years to come. He was perfectly content with the way his life was going, which was probably why life decided it was time to throw him through yet another loop.

******

He’s woken up by the sound of a loud crash below him. He stumbles out of bed grabbing his phone and Lupara, a gift from Jim, before sprinting down the stairs.

He turns the corner cautiously, gun first, prepared to shoot but desperately hoping he doesn’t have to. Before he can move his body out enough to see into the garage, some sort of wire shoots out to wrap itself around the barrel of the gun, yanking it out of Jason’s grip and sending him stumbling forward.

Not giving him a chance to regain his balance, something grabs him from behind, twisting his right arm behind his back as a hand reaches forward to cover his mouth. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, a foot kicks the back of his knee sending him and the intruder to the floor.

They land with Jason on his back on top of the intruder, which seems to be exactly what the psycho wanted, because he just throws both legs over Jason’s, effectively immobilizing him. Upon realizing that he can’t move his limbs, Jason is forced to consider moves that he will be ashamed of later. He bites down hard on the gloved hand over his mouth and gets a pained squeak as a reward. But it doesn’t cause the stranger to let go, instead they only grip Jason tighter.

“I know this is kind of a shitty way to ask for a favor,” A male voice pants in his ear. “But I just really need you to be quiet for like two minutes.” Jason rolls his eyes and continues squirming around. He thinks maybe if he can get his arm moved down slightly, he might be able to hit the guy right where it hurts.

He’s confused as to why the body beneath him suddenly tenses until he hears the footsteps. He looks over toward the door of the shop, where the sound is coming from. It’s made completely of tinted glass so, while he can clearly see the person standing on the other side, they can’t see him.

The person at the door is covered in some type of black armor, and is holding a sword that seems to be as long as one of Jason’s legs. It gleams ominously in the moonlight. Their creepily blank eyes stare into the shop for at least a full minute before Jason blinks and they’re gone. It still takes another thirty seconds for the body beneath his to relax.

Seizing the opportunity, Jason yanks his arm back to elbow the guy in the ribs, leaping away from him. He grabs his gun from the floor and whips back around to face the intruder, staring in surprise when he recognizes the costume.

“ _ Red Robin? _ ” He lowers the barrel a fraction of an inch. He had never really paid much attention to the vigilante activity in Gotham, in Jason’s opinion anyone who tried to deal with Gotham’s crazy high crime percentage and not get paid for it, was just insane. But he did remember reading an article a month ago about a new caped crusader spotted in Gotham, no doubt a member of Batman’s gang based on their name.

Red Robin gives him a slight wave from where he’s still laying down on the floor. He seems out of breath and really pale. Jason tries not to be obvious as he looks him over, but can’t help the look of horror that comes over his face when he notices the deep red liquid dripping onto the floor from a tear in the armor near the vigilantes ribs.

“Mind putting that thing down? I’d hate to have to break it this time.” Red Robin’s voice is light and teasing, but Jason can tell it’s more of an effort than it should be.

“Hey, you’re the one that broke into my store in the middle of the night.” Jason props the gun against the wall behind him, and moves closer to Red Robin cautiously.

“Didn’t know anyone would be in here,” Red Robin grunts, not masking the pain in his voice this time. He seems to be getting worse. Jason kneels next to him, his hands hovering uselessly as he looks at Red’s wound.

“Do you have someone you can call? I mean, there’s 911 obviously but you don’t seem like the sensible type.”

“No.” Red Robin tries to sit up but grimaces and falls back against the wall.

“No? Seriously? There’s like a small army of you do gooders running around here, you have to know at least one of them. I thought you’d all share a base or something at least.”

“I don’t.” Jason could press more but something in the weight of those two words makes him back off.

“Alright, well I’ve got a first aid kit upstairs if you’ll let me help you up there. Can’t patch you up down here, we might get blood stains on the lobby floor. That’d be bad for business.” Red frowns up at him.

“Why not just kick me out?” He asks. Jason glares at him.

“Umm because you obviously won’t make it very far with that wound and cheesy Mortal Kombat villain after you. And because I’m too decent of a human being to let you go without giving you the help you clearly need. Now do you wanna waste anymore time or are we gonna move?” At Red’s nod he wraps an arm under the vigilante’s shoulder and helps him stand.

The walk up the stairs goes smoother than Jason was expecting. Red Robin is a lot lighter than the armor makes him look, but Jason is still panting by the time they make it to the top.

“Hang on a sec,” He says, letting Red lean against the door as he practically sprints through his apartment. He quickly grabs the supplies from his tiny hallway closet, grabbing some towels from his bathroom on his way back and laying them down on the couch. He doesn’t want blood stains on his furniture either.

He moves Red to the couch so he’s laying flat on his back while Jason kneels beside him. He reaches for Red’s shirt, but his hand is swatted away before he can touch it. Jason opens his mouth to ask what his deal is, but stops short when he notices Red’s fingers pressing a pattern of hidden buttons under his belt.

“There,” Red says, hauling his shirt up with a groan. “It sends out a shock if you try to lift it without putting in the code.” Jason just shakes his head, wondering what the fuck his life has come to as he sets to cleaning Red’s wound.

“This…actually isn’t so bad.” Jason says inspecting the now clean cut. It’s long and looks nasty but he can see now that it doesn’t go that deep. The bleeding had almost stopped as well. Jason grabs gauze out of the box, glad he won’t have to give Red stitches.

“I thought you were all woozy because of the blood loss, were you just faking to get the pity vote?” He’s only half joking. If a wound this small put Red down, Jason is about a second away from telling him he should give up the whole gig.

“No.” Red sighs. Jason can’t see his eyes but can feel that Red’s rolling them at him. “Her sword was laced with a mild sedative, not particularly harmful but it’s pretty annoying.”

“And why was she after you?” Jason tugs Red’s shirt back down now that he’s done patching up the wound. He stays seated on the floor but relaxes back against the couch now that his job is done.

“I stopped her boss’s plan of mass destruction and now he’s out for revenge.” Red shrugs like what he said is the most normal thing in the world. “What?” He asks at Jason’s disbelieving stare.

“Why do you do it?”

“What fight assassins? They started it with their whole take over the world scheme.”

“No, just the hero stuff in general. Gotham is always going to have criminals, and the people you do end up saving probably go on to talk about how much they hate your kind anyway. This,” He gestures at Red’s wound. “Isn’t worth it.”

“It wouldn’t be if I was doing any of this for some sort of praise. But that’s not why I’m doing it. I do it because it helps protect the people I care about, even if they don’t currently care about me. Because the adrenaline of solving a crime before it happens or winning a fight is one of the few things that I look forward to anymore.”

“That’s kind of…depressing.” Is the only reply Jason can come up with. Surprisingly it makes Red laugh. It’s short and quiet, but Jason feels proud for being the reason behind it. It’s probably what encourages the next idiotic thing that pops out of his mouth.

“Well, if you ever need a hiding spot again or some light stitching, you can come back here.” Jason almost instantly regrets his offer at the incredulous look Red gives him. Then Red smiles, it’s a small one, but sweet none the less and _ fuck his teeth are perfect _ . It makes Jason’s heart try to claw its way out of his throat.

“But I swear to Hades you better not come here if you’re actually dying. I do not want to explain to the cops why I have a vigilante corpse in my studio.”

***

And, so it becomes A Thing. It’s not something that’s scheduled, Red doesn’t send him a quick text letting him know that on Thursday he’ll stumble through his window, bleeding and with what Jason is pretty sure is a mild concussion, but Jason’s always ready for it. He spends most nights of his summer break before college working, for free dammit, as Red’s nurse.

Red thankfully never comes in with anything Jason can’t handle, although once he did ask Jason to help him set a dislocated shoulder once. Jason almost said no but then Red gave him that sweet little smile of his and politely added please to the request, and Jason decided he could probably handle it.

One night, after he had been out late visiting his adoptive family, he comes home to find Red on his couch quietly snoring. Jason carefully checks him over, noticing that Red has helped himself to Jason’s favorite hoodie and a pair of his sweatpants. His costume his laying on Jason’s coffee table folded neatly, minus the domino mask that is still on Red’s face, of course.

Red’s curled in a ball on his side, leaving Jason with plenty of room to sit down on the far end. He does so, pulling out a novel to pass the time until he’s tired enough to go to sleep. He steals glances at Red’s sleeping form between pages, a deep warmth spreading through his torso at the sight of the other boy in his clothes.

Jason must fall asleep at some point, because he wakes up to the smell of bacon and looks past his couch to see a yawning vigilante standing at his stove, making them breakfast.

***

Not too long after that, Red stops coming around for awhile and Jason tries not to worry too much. Then one day, he sees a paparazzi photo of Red working with Batman, Nightwing, and Robin. He stops worrying but can’t help feeling like Red was just using him as a placeholder until he made up with his friends.

He rips the paper to shreds and stops waiting up for Red Robin to crawl through his window.

***

Jason is eating lunch in his office, looking over monthly reports, when one of the technicians comes looking for him.

“Yo boss, you got a customer askin’ for you.” The guy slouches away before Jason can remind him that he’s not available. Jason sighs irritably but gets up to deal with it anyways.

When he comes out into the lobby he stops short, eyeing the out of place customer suspiciously. He’s young, maybe still in high school even, and is dressed like something a private school ad spit out. He’s wearing a red cardigan, white undershirt, a fucking bow tie, and khakis. The only thing messy about him is his hair, which is probably caused by the sleek black helmet he has under his arm.

“Can I help you?” The only reason he’s ever been visited by someone from Gotham’s upper class is when they want to buy him out to use the lot for another corporate business, so Jason is already on guard.

The kid turns when he hears Jason, and Jason can’t help but stare because _ damn _ . With his bright blue eyes, light skin, and long lashes, the kid looks way too pretty to be standing in Jason’s greasy old shop. He snaps himself out of it before he embarrasses himself but realizes the customer never answered him.

He’s staring at Jason with an unreadable expression on his face, biting his bottom lip. Jason looks down at himself, unreasonably self-conscious of his grease-stained overalls and dirty work boots. He clears his throat, wanting to get the catholic school boy out of his shop as quickly as possible.

“Oh yes,” The customer shakes his head slightly. “Yeah I have a scratch on my bike and was wondering if you’d be able to repair the paint job.” Jason fights back a sigh, not sure why one of the techs couldn’t have handled this.

“Alright Mr.-?”

“Drake, but you can just call me Tim. You’re Jason, right?” Jason nods, reaching out to shake Tim’s hand. Tim’s hands are rougher than Jason was expecting, his calluses scratch against Jason’s palm.

“Is the bike parked out front?”

“Yeah,” Tim turns on his heel and leads the way out to the parking lot. His bike is expectedly expensive and flashy, a red ducati. Jason kneels beside it searching for the scratch.

“Where did you say it was?”

“On the side,” Tim gestures vaguely. Jason doesn’t hold back his sigh this time as he starts to search every nook and cranny of the bike.

“My friend referred me here. He said you’re really good at patching things up.” Tim says conversationally.

“Oh yeah?” Jason will have to remember to write their name down, they’ll get fifteen percent off their next service.

“Yeah he wanted me to tell you he’s sorry he hasn’t come in for a while.” Jason just gives a shrug in response, giving up in his search for the mystery scratch and standing back up next to Tim.

“Well I don’t see any damage but I have a spot open on Friday at noon for a detail if you’d like to make sure.”

“Okay,” Tim says easily when Jason was expecting him to argue. “So your lunch break would probably be sometime after that right?”

“I guess…” Jason trails off uncertainly.

“I’m only asking because I’d like to take you for a ride if you’d be interested.” Tim’s voice starts off smooth but around the middle his voice starts breaking. Jason doesn’t look at him at first, still staring at the bike as he processes what just happened.

His brain short-circuits and he turns to face Tim with an incredulous stare instead of an actual answer. Tim looks back at him, nervously fidgeting but undeterred by Jason’s hesitance.

Something about the shock on Jason’s face must amuse the other boy because, as Jason opens his mouth to stutter his way through a refusal, Tim’s lips lips quirk up in a small smile.

And the refusal dies on Jason’s lips because he  _ knows that smile _ .

Later the sugar high of the cheesecake he splits with Tim allows him to admit to himself that maybe, just this once, he was able to make some damn lemonade out of the challenges life threw at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think! I take requests and post previews to future fics here on my tumblr if you’re interested: [glaciya.](http://glaciya.tumblr.com/)


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